


Night Out

by YunoJuno



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Humor, Maybe - Freeform, drunk Ui is a bit of a bitch, idk i tried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 16:32:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12369675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunoJuno/pseuds/YunoJuno
Summary: Furuta, Juuzou and Ui goes drinking. Shenanigans ensue.





	Night Out

Arima Kishou was calm, collected and strong. His stone cold silence coupled with a unique brand of mercilessness was what defined him as an outstanding investigator above all else. No one claimed to understand the mysterious figure that was the CCG’s reaper but nonetheless they all obediently held him to the role of the ideal investigator that the upper echelon of the ghoul hunting organization would all seek to embody with varying degrees of effort and success.

So it was entirely unexpected when a scream tore through the thin walls that made up a majority of the important employees offices. As Juuzou Suzuya skipped over to where the shriek had been located in hopes of discovering what was going on he ran into a very concerned looking Furuta heading in the same direction in hopes of a laugh. It didn’t take long before they had found both the source and nature of the sound.

The scream had in fact been an enraged screech and the culprit Special Class investigator Ui Koori who by the time they arrived was cursing dejectedly under his breath and glaring into a corner as if it was personally responsible for whatever tragedy had befallen the man. Upon further inquiry the two were awarded with a low hiss sounding suspiciously like “God damn Sasaki… secretary…”

As Juuzou went up to make fun of Ui’s outburst Furuta inched closer to the corner the investigator had been staring at. As it turned out, obscured by shadows laid a laptop with a few spindly cracks adorning the screen and said screen flashing brightly to display a folder containing the information of one Sasaki Haise. Oh, so it was about that then. Juuzou seemed to have reached the same conclusion as Ui let his head slip from his hands and fall into the small pile of papers waiting.

“I need a drink.” He groaned. Glancing over at each other the two investigators reached the same conclusion, if only for different reasons.

This was how the three found themselves at a bar a few blocks from the headquarters, Juuzou munching on far more snacks than he currently had money on him to afford and nodding along to Ui’s drunken rambles. As soon as they had arrived the man had downed large amounts of alcohol in mere seconds and as his miserable expression made way for an annoyed one his talk had gotten increasingly slurred.

“Can’t believe what Arima was thinking.” He growled. Juuzou giggled and Koori’s hair whipped around obscuring his glare for a moment until it settled in a now disheveled bowl cut. “He doesn't deserve a fraction of the attention… a fraction!” His voice slipped and momentarily his grip on the counter as well. Furuta steadied him again with a polite smile.

“Why would Arima want him as a secretary anyways, huh?” Ui turned to Furuta, who was still keeping the increasingly plastic looking smile on his face.

“You’re his subordinate, isn’t he just terrible!” This in on itself was in general a stupid question to ask anyone, especially subordinates of the man you were talking ill of. Had Ui not been as intoxicated and had Furuta been as protective of his boss as, say Hanbee, the universe might have taken on a different course. But presently, none of these conditions were cleared. So Furuta continued to smile, taking a turn for subtle maliciousness as he looked over the bedraggled special class and said,

“He really is…” with a dramatic sigh Furuta continued, “he acts humble in front of everyone but uses it as a way to rub his achievements in their faces.” Spreading his arms wider and angling his palms to face outward with a tilt at the exact angle his eyebrows had arranged themselves the rank one investigator added, “and ever since the Tsukiyama extermination raid he has had a lot of them.”

“Tsukiyama.” The name visibly affected the intoxicated Ui, bringing back painful memories. He slumped towards the table surface but missed and fell right onto the spot where Furuta was sitting. Awkwardly trying to steady the wasted investigator once again he was stopped in his tracks as Ui grabbed his coat.

“Hairu.” Ui muttered tiredly, seemingly not present in mind rather than body. Using the other investigator’s coat Ui hid his face and made a muffling sound reminiscent of hopless laughter.

“There, there…” petting the rumpled bowlcut awkwardly Furuta pushed Ui off of him and laid him down on the table, knocking a bottle and two glasses over in the process. It was around this time that the absence of Juuzou’s drunken giggles had become suspicious enough to fearfully look over at the place he had last inhabited, hoping he was still there. The last time something of the nature had occurred no one wanted to remember, but the results had been so devastating it was hard not to.

Thankfully, the stitched investigator remained in his place, having toppled over a bowl of chips and fallen asleep with the crumbs spread over his hair and the table. Raffling through their pockets rewarded Furuta with two wallets containing a grand total of 31000 yen, a packet of strawberry gum, a needle and red thread, a picture of Hairu Ihei trying to keep her flowy summer dress down during a gust of wind, two phones and a paperclip.

After scrolling through their contact lists, pictures and browser history he used the money to pay their bill and kept the change. He was on his way home after texting Hanbee from Juuzou’s phone to come pick up the two sleeping investigators.

Ui could tell the moment he force his eyes open and managed to tumble into a table, effectively destroying a flower pot, that this day was off to a bad start. Whatever memories he possessed from yesterday and earlier today, because yes, just saying they got home after midnight would be an under exaggeration, were blurry and painful to recall.

It only got increasingly worse from there, as the investigator with less than four hours sleep and no peaceful one had to drag himself to his office regardless and in the process found he had misplaced both his wallet and an… erhm… important picture. After painstakingly making his way over, consuming two cups of coffee which might have helped but then again he garnered just as many pitying and concerned glances, he was subjected to the sight he currently wanted to see the least.

Sasaki was walking down the hallway with Furuta in tow. The man might've looked slightly worse-for-wear, with his black hair constantly obscuring his eyes, forcing him to sweep his bangs away only for them to fall into his vision again but Ui was certain he looked far less appealing.

“Sasaki.” Ui nodded briefly, far too tired to really care how rude he was being. In fact, even without the hangover haunting him chances are he would be just as malicious, if only subtler. The investigator being addressed looked over Ui’s appearance once, and tilted his head in a mockery of emotion but otherwise remained looking fairly expressionless.

“Ui-senpai. You don’t look very good,” Sasaki observed, a rather obvious thing but he was the first one to have outright told the special class that.

“We went out drinking last night, though it seems Special Class Ui hasn’t quite recovered yet. You don’t get much sleep either boss, you’ve seen so busy with work lately.” Furuta supplied.

“Huh, I suppose I’ve been busy lately.” Haise said, and Ui’s reaction was near instantaneous. He was normally a composed man, efficient and not more outwardly emotional then what would ever be expected. However, the effects of excessive drinking lingered in the back of his head and he could feel the world blurring and clearing up to the tact of the muted pounding in his head. As the world delve deeper into surrealism one memory from the obscur bundle that had been the night before resurfaced with clarity unlike any other.

''“He really is…” with a dramatic sigh Furuta continued, “he acts humble in front of everyone but uses it as a way to rub his achievements in their faces.”''

With newfound rage Ui readied to attack Sasaki like a teenage Queen Bee lunging at the bitch who stole her man.

...Whatever transpired afterwards Ui couldn’t remember, and as he came to he was being tied to an unfamiliar office chair as Arima attempted to talk to him for what seemed like not the first time.

And thus concludes the tale of hungover Ui, who had absolutely no idea how accurate the flimsy accusations he threw at Sasaki would come to be.


End file.
